Following Darkness like a Dream
by Jenza Quinn
Summary: the incidents of the Roswell High series written in the Gargoyle universe, a part 9 & 10 are up, MAX IS EVIL!!!!!! got your attention? please R & R, I really need input
1. Crazy for This Girl

Well, here's a somewhat revised version of the story so far ****

Well, here's a somewhat revised version of the story so far. I've added a few little scenes for a little more flavor and background. I've hit a snag in my thought process so it's going to be awhile before more gets up. Roswell High belongs to Melinda Metz. Gargoyles belongs to Disney. I'm doing this for my own sense of demented pleasure and the people who actually like the story. Please read and review. Enjoy the slightly revised version of "Following Darkness Like a Dream."

Half an hour after sunset, he settled himself into the booth by one of the full-length wall windows. He glanced around the Crash-down Café, searching for the familiar amber face among the newly awakened teen gargoyles, but she apparently hadn't come down from the rooftop yet. He gazed out the window and smirked as a pair of gawking human tourists passed by. Roswell was the only place he could think of that knew about the existence of gargoyles and actually accepted them into human civilization. Hell, they believed that aliens walked among them, why shouldn't they integrate gargoyles into their families, which probably saved them from a load of trouble. The town made sure that Roswell's other little secret didn't cause uproar. Most of the tourists went away truly believing that they had seen an alien. Either that or a very intricate costume. As far as he knew, the world was still ignorant about the actual existence of gargoyles. 

Musing, he stared at the dim reflection of his face. Some of the female gargoyles called him a Fairy prince because of his appearance. Emerald green skin. Golden hair. Pale blue eyes. He rubbed his doubly spiked brow ridges while pondering why some high school human girls would flirt with someone so inhuman. He had already answered that. The people had accepted the gargoyles and the thought of aliens. But would they, would she…

"Maxwell. You're dreaming again. Need I remind you how dangerous that is?"

Max spun to glare at his friend. He hated when Michael snuck up on him like that. He could always read his mind, too. Had Michael figured out a power they had that he hadn't? 

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the high and mighty Archangel tonight?"

He smiled as Michael's fanged half-smirk turned into a frown. Michael hated that nickname, but how could Max not peg him with it? Michael looked like the devil incarnate and his "rebel without a cause" attitude didn't help any. He was the kid that all mothers warned their daughters about, at least on the outside. His skin was brick red and from each temple, long horns curled over his spiked black hair. Under the horns, his pale gray almond-shaped eyes mischievously burned. His wings furthered the fallen angel look. They were large, soft, bronze-feathered wings, not the usual bat-like ones. They were like hers, but darker…

"You know I'm telling the truth, Max. We can't get involved with anyone here. Remember, you were the one who used to lecture me and Isabel."

"Isabel and me."

"Whatever. But you know that this can't work. I mean she's a nice girl and all, but have you ever even talked to her outside of class?"

"Where is Izzy, anyway?"

"She's with the in-crowd at the club. Apparently hanging with her big bro and his buddy while they mope over girls isn't totally styling."

Then, talking to her friend, she entered the café and perched on the counter. Her raven hair cascaded over her amber shoulders and creamy feathered wings and pooled into her lap. A halo of small horns crowned her forehead and jutted out of her high cheekbones. If he spaced out enough, he could almost see a golden glow around her and hear the soft singing of doves and heavenly choirs. He sighed and leaned against the table.

"You're doing it again Maxwell. Liz is off limits."

"There's nothing wrong with looking, is there? Or would you like to have a lecture about staring at Maria?"

Michael's cheeks actually turned a deeper shade of red as his head whipped around to focus on the window.

"Like you said. There's nothing wrong with looking," Michael mumbled. Max knew Michael would never admit that he actually had a thing for Liz's friend. Maria's pale blond, curly, shoulder length hair set off her dark blue skin. She had no distinguishing spikes or horns, which was odd for a gargoyle. Max was rather surprised that Michael felt something for her. She could be a complete ditz sometimes and was into all that new age feelings and aromatherapy stuff. She was completely different from Michael. 

Two shouting humans shook Max from his thoughts. They were obviously arguing over something and it wasn't going to end with them hugging and making up. Max and Michael got up at the same time, but with different interests. Michael grabbed Max's arm as he moved towards the fight.

"It's time to bolt, Maxwell."

"But what about the fight? Serve and protect! It's the gargoyle way."

"We're not really gargoyles, Max," Michael hissed. "It's time to stop living in your fairy tale. Wake up, before it's too late."

A shot rang through the commotion and everything proceeded in slow motion for a moment. Her creamy wings created an ivory aura as Liz fell behind the counter. Maria screamed and leapt after her friend.

"Don't even think about it! She'll be fine and the dawn will heal her. She doesn't need your help."

"Oh my God! Liz! There's so much blood! Somebody help!" Maria yelped. 

"No, she's dying. I have to heal her now. She'll be dead by dawn." 

"And what about Isabel," Michael argued. "You think she'll be all fine and dandy about this. The government or God knows who will be knocking down our door tomorrow morning, ready to cut us apart. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a lab, just to play hero?"

Maria was still crying behind the counter, whimpering for help. The two humans rushed out the door, nearly knocking Max and Michael off their feet.

"You go get the bad guys, Michael. I've got to save the girl."

Max pulled away from Michael and leapt skillfully over the counter.

"Maxwell, you're fucking insane…"

"Do it now!"

Max bent down behind the counter as Michael sprinted out the door. Pooling onto the floor, blood bubbled out of Liz's stomach. Max surrounded Liz with his dark green wings, creating a barrier between them and the outside world. Maria pounded on his left wing, her hoarse voice hissing pleas and threats. He ignored the distraught gargoyle and focused on Liz. First, the bullet. As his left four-taloned paw melted to a slender five-fingered hand, he placed it on her wound. He closed his eyes and willed the sides of the puncture to widen slightly. He winced as Liz gasped in pain. The chasm was wide enough now, and he called the bullet to his hand. He grabbed the metal pellet, after it escaped the flesh, in his right hand. Then, he focused on Liz's cells. He didn't know how to really describe what he was doing. One by one, he summoned the damaged cells back to life, knitting them together into whole tissue, muscle, and skin. He slowly realized the new tugging on his right wing that now accompanied the beating on the left.

"Hurry up! The ambulance is almost here. It's time to go! Now!"

Max looked at the healed wound, the unmarred skin, then at Liz's face. Her fanged mouth and dark eyes gaped wide open.

"How…" she mumbled, awestruck.

He put his morphed-back talons to her lips. "I'll explain later." He scanned the counter and picked up a Ketchup bottle. He crushed the glass bottle, pouring the contents onto her stomach. "You were startled and broke the bottle when you fell. You got that Liz?" She slowly nodded her head as Michael pulled Max to his feet.

"Are you done now, lover boy?" Michael asked angrily as he dragged Max out the door. The paramedics entered as they exited the café. Max glanced back to see Liz standing up, holding the broken Ketchup bottle. 

"I'm fine," she gasped. "I was startled and spilt Ketchup all over myself. Really, I'm fine." Her eyes searched his, confused. Michael continued to drag Max up to the roof. The police pulled up as they scaled the building.

"Great! Are you happy now, huh? If we live to see tomorrow, Izzy and I will personally kill you." Michael leapt off the backside of the two-story café, gliding away from the developing crime scene. Max glanced at the scene, watching Sheriff Valenti exit his car and stride into the small restaurant. Sighing, Max followed Michael's flight route.

"Isabel's going to kill me."


	2. Here with Me

Liz felt very dizzy ****

Liz felt very dizzy. Well, of course she should be, she just lost a lot of blood. Didn't she? She glanced down at the ketchup on her black tank top. Had it been a dream? No, she could still feel the itch of the drying blood on her stomach and a tingling sensation. She felt energized, considering she had almost died. The dizziness came back, but she fought its effects. 

"I'm fine. See, it's just ketchup," Liz murmured. The paramedics looked her over and shrugged their shoulders. If she did have a gunshot wound, she wouldn't be standing there, telling them she's fine. But she had been shot. The realization washed over her, the world started to spin. She grabbed the counter for support and looked at the floor. A puddle of her blood lay at her taloned feet. She felt sick, but she had to clean it up or her savior would be discovered. Max. He was in some of her night school classes that the town set-up for the growing gargoyle population. He looked so normal, but always emitted this sense of hidden power. Still, how…

"Are you sure you're OK, miss?"

"Oh, yes. I just have to clean up this mess of ketchup. I wouldn't want someone to slip." Liz hurried to get the mop and water bucket from the corner under the counter. She jumped when a white taloned hand rested on her spiked shoulder.

"Don't worry about the mess, Liz," the elder gargoyle said as she passed Liz and retrieved the bucket and mop. "I'll clean it up. Maria? Why don't you take Liz into the bathroom and help her freshen up? Maria?"

Liz glanced over to Maria. God, she looked terrible. Her normal sapphire blue coloring had paled to a shade slightly darker than periwinkle. Her raspberry lips opened and closed like a fish's mouth and she looked close to tears.

"Maria, are you all right?" the elder gargoyle asked, sloshing most of the red water into the bucket. "I'm almost done here, would you like me to help you two in the bathroom?"

Maria seemed to finally snap out of her trance.

"No, no," she squeaked. "I'm fine. Come on, Liz. Let's get you washed up."

Maria shakily led her to the bathroom. They almost reached the restroom's door, when the clacking of boot heels echoed through the café. Both gargoyles stopped in terror and, to Liz's surprise, Maria blanched to an even paler shade of blue. She couldn't blame her though. There was no mistaking whose boots those were.

"Liz of the Ortecho family," a cold voice called from behind them.

Liz swallowed hard and, then, turned to face Sheriff Valenti, the terror of every teenager in Roswell. Even more so for the gargoyles. It was hard to believe, but he was even colder and stricter with the gargoyle teens than the humans. She stared at the tall, gray haired man, his emotionless sunglasses gazing back.

"Yes, Sheriff Valenti?"

"I heard there was a shooting here and that you were injured. Would you care to tell me what happened here?" 

"Well, you see, um, these two guys were fighting and then one pulled out a gun and fired it," Liz stuttered. "The gunshot scared me and I fell off the counter and spilt ketchup over myself. See?" She pointed a talon down at her "ketchup" stained shirt. The dark sunglasses just stared blankly at her. 

"Could you describe these two men?"

"Well, I didn't really get a good…"

"Some of the humans said that they saw a young male gargoyle with you behind the counter. Could you tell me about him?"

Liz's breath caught in her throat.

"Um, I really don't know what they're talking about. I blacked out…"

"But, then, how do you know that you spilt ketchup on yourself?"

"May I help you, Mister Valenti?" the elder gargoyle interjected, her doubly spiked brows knit in a scowl.

"I was just asking Liz here about the incident, Angel. Is there a problem…"

"I'm sorry, but Liz has been through quite a shock. I saw the whole incident. I can answer all of your questions." Angel turned to Liz and placed a white hand on her shoulder. She softly continued. "Liz, Maria, you two can go into the restroom now. Mister Valenti will not bother you anymore."

"Yes, elder," Liz and Maria quietly replied. As they entered the bathroom, the air seemed to become electrified when Angel and Valenti continued their conversation. As soon as the door swung closed behind her, Maria spun and confronted Liz.

"OK, what the hell happened out there?" Maria croaked.

"I fell and…"

"Don't give me any of the ketchup crap! I saw you get shot! What the hell happened?! "

Liz grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser, filled the sink with warm water, and submerged the towels.

"Liz, please! You almost died! God, I was sure that I had just lost my best friend."

Maria gasped back tears. Liz tried to focus her mind on cleaning her black tank top. But what had happened? No normal gargoyle could heal someone with his bare hands. Maybe he was an alien. Despite the situation, Liz almost laughed at that thought. Could it be magic?

"Liz, for the sake of our friendship, _please_, talk to me!"

Suddenly feeling very tired, Liz leaned against the sink. Looking down at the blood stained towel, the thought hit her again. She had almost died. Trembling, she grasped the sink for balance. Her mind fluttered around, leaving all coherent wondering behind.

"I don't know, Maria. It was so dark, and cold. Then, all of a sudden, it was all better. And Max was…Maria?"

"Yea," she sobbed.

"I…I, think Max healed me."

"But, h…"

"I don't know! But he told me to lie for him. I have no clue of what to do."

Liz heaved a sigh and forced threatening tears back.

"Maybe he's an…"

"If you say alien, I'm going to laugh at you. And anyway, I ruled that one out already."

"Then, what about a sorcerer? They do exist, don't they?"

"You can't seriously think that, can you Maria? I mean, it's all a bunch of stories to scare us as hatchlings. You know? Do you chores or the sorcerer will come and turn you to stone at night."

"I guess, but usually there is a bit of truth in the tales. I mean, there was that clan in Scotland."

"That's a legend. Have you ever seen them?"

"Well, noo…"

"Exactly, now help me with this mess."

Maria picked up some soaked towels and tried to rub away some of the red gunk plastered on Liz's stomach. Just when she had regained her normal coloring, she paled again.

"Um, Liz?"

"What?"

"I think you should just burn the shirt."

"Huh? Why?"

Maria slipped her hand under the bottom of Liz's top and poked her talon throw a small hole in the black fabric.

"Do you really want to explain to Valenti how a perfectly bullet shaped hole got in your top?"

Both girls jumped when Angel slammed the door open.

"That egotistical, sadistic…arg! Oh, how are you girls doing?"

Maria and Liz straightened quickly. Had she seen the bullet hole? Liz placed her hand over her stomach.

"Uh, we're just fine, elder."

"My! You're shirt is a mess, Liz."

As she approached the girls, Angel draped her iridescent sea green wings, sparkling deep purple as the light reflected off them, over her shoulders. She gently moved Liz's hands away from the hole.

"There is no way that you'll get this out. And look, you even ripped it when you fell." Angel stuck her pointer talon through the bullet hole and then looked Liz in the eyes. _Oh, god_, Liz thought as she gasped. _She's going to figure it out_._ What are we going to do?_ Angel's sea green eyes glowed with concern, but an unknown fear burned in their depths.

"Why don't I go up to your room and fetch another top? The last I saw, Valenti was still out there, talking to your parents. I don't want him torturing you two, ever. If he ever gets in your way, you come to me, you got it?"

Maria and Liz slowly nodded.

"Good. Now, do you have a preference for a top?"

"Not really," Liz murmured.

"Ok, well, I'll be back in a bit."

Both the girl gargoyles breathed a sigh of relief when Angel left.

"That was close," Maria gasped.

"I don't know. Something doesn't seem right."

"Whatever, Mulder. Let's clean off those abs so that you won't get the new shirt dirty."

Liz pulled up her tank top to expose her stomach. She giggled as Maria wiped off the blood and the ketchup that had soaked through the shirt.

"Laugh it up, I think I'm going to be sick."

"I… can't help…it. It….ti..ckles." 

"Um, Liz?"

"If it's another bullet hole, I don't want to see it."

"Um, well, it's not a hole, but, oh, just look at it!"

Liz turned to face the mirror and nearly collapsed from surprise. On her stomach where the bullet hole would have been was a silver handprint.

"Liz?"

"Yes?"

"You said that Max healed you, right?"

"What's your point?"

"The blond, green skinned gargoyle in the vest, right?"

"Just spit it out Maria."

"If he healed you, then why does the handprint have five fingers?"


	3. Responsibility

He was going to kill him ****

He was going to kill him. Plain and simple. As soon as they landed, he was going to kill him. What the hell had Max been thinking? Ok, so Michael had pulled some shit in his youth, but nothing this big. Nothing that directly involved another gargoyle. How could he be so stupid? Was there one of those brain-sucking aliens hanging around their house or something? Whatever the reason, Max should not have endangered them like that. Michael was so going to kill him.

They had been gliding over the desert for the past 7 hours and, man, he was getting tired, but every time he tried to pull along side Max or force him to land, Max would veer off in another direction. As much as Michael loved silence, now was not the time. At least it looked like they were heading home now. Michael sighed. He was still pissed at Max, but the sensation of flight threatened to dissolve his mood. How could he live without this? The wind rushing under his feathered wings. He felt free. No worries. No cares. Just him and the currents of air. Oh, and Max! He could not forget about that. They neared their "clan's" house. As much as his wings ached, Michael really did not want to land, but he had to confront Max, sooner or later. He sighed again as his taloned feet hit the yard in front of their house. Spinning to face the landing Max, Michael blocked the path between the green gargoyle and the house.

"What the hell was that about!?" Michael exclaimed.

"Michael, she was going to die," Max replied calmly while trying to pass Michael.

"That's what doctors do! Goddamit Max! We're all in danger now! Fucking Valenti was there! You know how much that guy scares the shit out of Isabel. Did you even think of her while you were playing hero?"

"I don't have to listen to this."

Max tried to brush past him, but Michael placed his hand on Max's chest and pushed him back. Max might be more adept at their "gifts", but Michael was stronger by far. Michael glanced down and saw that Max's right hand clutched into a fist. For a second, Michael thought a nice fight would break out, but then realized that Max's hand had been closed since they left the Crashdown.

"Max? What's in your hand?"

"It's nothing."

"Nothing my ass! Open your hand."

Michael squeezed Max's wrist until he winced in pain and unfolded his fingers to revel a small bloodstained metal pellet.

"Shit, now I know that you are fucking insane! You brought the fucking bullet with you! Goddamit, now Valenti is definitely going to know something is fucked up. Did you even consider what he'll do when he doesn't find the damn bullet at the crime scene?"

"Being dragged out of a café by a crazed gargoyle doesn't really help coherent thinking. Now, let's go inside and get some…" 

"No. We end this now. So, tell me, fearless leader, what the hell are you going to do when Liz or, better yet, Valenti comes knocking and asks what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Michael, you know you really shouldn't swear."

"Don't tell me what to do Max! I'm not the one who put our lives on the line. So, tell me, what's the plan? What's the thing that will set everything right? Because I sure as hell can't see it."

"Michael, why don't we talk…"

"Oh no. I'm not going in until I get an answer."

Max glanced over his right shoulder and sighed.

"Do you really want to give the neighbors a magic show or are we going inside?"

Michael directed his gaze to where Max stared. A soft pinkish haze glowed over the houses and yards. Damn, dawn was coming already. A low growl emanated from the back of his throat as he spun to enter the house.

"Fine," Michael hissed. "But you're not getting off that easy." 

Michael and Max entered the house and waited for the day to start. They could her Isabel rummaging in her closet. Max was definitely in for it. If Isabel was cleaning her closet, she must be majorly pissed. As the first light of morning entered the window, Michael felt a warm tingling sensation sweep over his body. Warm water seemed to pour over him, melting his skin from a brick red to a moderate tan. His back lightened from the loss of his wings and tail, and his brow became more flexible with the loss of the twin horns. He stumbled forward to regain his balance as his feet morphed into human form. Welcome to semi-normal human teenage living one-o-one. Groaning, Michael rubbed his unburdened shoulders as he turned to face Max again. He opened his mouth to continue his harassment, but Isabel stormed into the living room and beat him to it.

"Max! What did you do? I've been worried sick."

Max put on his best "who-me" face, which just made him look even guiltier.

"What makes you think it was me? It could have been Michael."

Michael shot Max an angry glare and growled. Ok, so some gargoyle habits came in handy even in human form. Isabel's ice blue eyes maintained their focused fury on Max.

"The last time Michael used that much energy was when he turned the wall to the girl's locker room invisible in middle school."

Michael blushed slightly and tried to force the smirk off of his face. Even though Max had thrown the book at him for that prank, it had been as fun as all hell. He had been careful, too, making sure he had a suitable hiding place where no one could see him. Ooo, the look on those girls' faces when the wall turned transparent. Now, that was priceless. Michael snapped himself out of past memories. They had more important problems right now.

"Well, Max, what did you do?"

"The saint healed a gargoyle in public. A gun shot wound, too."

"What?! God, Max, what were you thinking? And _you_ let him do this? Why didn't you stop him?"

Michael held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Hey, don't look at me. I didn't heal the girl. I was tracking down the bad guys by orders of fearless leader."

"Look," Max sighed, "I'll take care of it. Tonight, I'll just tell her the truth. No problems."

"Earth to Maxwell! What makes you think she'll accept the truth? For all you know, she'll go find some mage or something and trap us in a glass orb. How do you know that she can be trusted?"

"Michael, I'll handle it. End of story."

"Max, he's right. How well do you now this gargoyle?"

"I said, I'll handle it! Now, let's get our two hours sleep before school, ok? We've all had a rough night and we don't want to wake mom. I'll see you two later."

With that, Max spun on his heel and stalked off to his room. That was the end of that. Michael growled again. End of story. Fearless leader had spoken and all must obey. Michael stormed off to his room and flopped onto his bed.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Maxwell."


	4. 

Finally, the school day was over ****

Finally, the school day was over. Alex had been on the edge of seat since he heard about the shooting at the Crashdown during homeroom. Everybody gossiped about a gargoyle getting shot and he was as scared as all hell. He would have run right to the Crashdown when he heard, had it not been for the fact that Liz and Maria were in their stone sleep. That is if neither had been hurt the night before. He raked his hand through his red hair. He was worried sick about his two girls, especially since one rumor said Liz had been shot. Sighing, he relaxed his pace and stuffed his hands in his pockets. There was no use hurrying. The sun wouldn't be down for another 5 hours or so. He hoped nothing bad had happened to his gargoyle friends. They had known each other for as long as he could remember. He had wandered away from his parents and had gotten into the street. He couldn't remember much, he had only been four, but there was a loud honking and bright lights. Then, he was in two strong arms, feeling warm and safe. Liz had been twenty-two at the time, which was the human equivalent of eleven. He remembered seeing her soft feathered wings, looking her happily in the eyes, and proclaiming, "Angel!" They had been friends ever since. She started babysitting him when his dad and mom had to work at night. Liz introduced him to Maria and they remained the Three Musketeers minus one ever since.

It was odd though. Alex didn't have many human friends due to his relationship with Liz and Maria. They were like big sisters to him and yet in a year he would be physically older than them. He noticed them looking at him often and commenting on how much he's grown and yet they hadn't changed much. While he had to go through the toddler years, elementary school, middle school, puberty, and finally high school, he had only watched them mature. In a way, he was almost jealous. He squinched his eyes closed and sighed. As much as he loved the two, he could never get over the aging thing. Not to mention the long boring days. That was the downfall of having gargoyles as your best friends. Ok, so the fact that he was a computer nerd didn't help either, but that was beside the point. And then again, it could be the red hair. Somehow, at least in his mind, it never worked for a guy. Now, women on the other hand had it easy. For them, redhead equals hot babe that everyone wants. Just look at that Pack lady. What was her name? Fox, that was it. Ex-star of a hit TV show, married to a multi-billionaire, and coveted by anything male. It was the same with that new businesswoman, Dominique Destine. The redhead women had it. Him, however. For him, red hair equaled freckles and endless jokes. Maybe he should just dye his hair and end his misery. He began to open his green eyes, when he suddenly slammed into something.

"Ah, shit," he mumbled and hoped to God that it wasn't someone from the football team.

"Look, I'm really sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going and the shooting at the Crashdown…" He stopped in mid-sentence when he realized whom he had run into.

"Uh, hi Isabel," he choked out. Ok, he could have handled the football team, but the Aphrodite of Ulysses F. Olsen High School, that was another story. Long golden tresses, ice blue eyes, perfect skin. She had to be a goddess; there was no other explanation. Too bad every other guy in the high school craved her. She had any guy she wanted at her disposal and Alex knew he was not even in the running. Cheerleaders did not go for hackers.

"Do I know you?" She seemed flustered for a second, which was odd for her. What was it the other kids called her? Oh, yes, the ice queen. Cold, decisive.

"I'm in some of your classes. Let's see, Calculus, German, and Physics."

"Oh, you're Alex, right?" Ah, some hope, she at least knew his name. "The guy in the back of the class playing games on his calculator."

"Well, that's not what I'd like to be known as, but yes, that's me." Alex glanced around to keep from looking at her.

"Hey, Manes! You trying to add a human to your harem or did you just get tired of those gargoyle sluts?"

Alex cringed at the unforgettable voice of Kyle Valenti. That guy had the worst timing in the world and an even shorter temper. Sighing, Alex turned around slowly to face the brown-haired boy.

"Bug off, Valenti! Just because your dad is Sheriff around here doesn't mean you can butt your nose into other people's business."

"I just thought it was my duty to warn such a beautiful lady about a sicko like you."

"Get off of it. Just because Liz had enough class to dump you without giving you any does not give you a reason to make my life a living hell."

Alex had said that line a million times before, but it never worked. Being the Sheriff's son and head of the football team gave Kyle an ego the size of Jupiter. Which is exactly why he thought he could have a good romp with a gargoyle. However, after the truth came out that all Kyle was looking for was an easy ride, Liz dumped him and beat the crap out of him when he wouldn't take the rejection nicely. Now, Kyle had a grudge as big as his ego. Come to think of it, that probably didn't help Alex's rep either.

"A pretty lady like her deserves someone better than a gargoyle pimp."

"Oh, I suppose she needs a big strong man like you. Do you even now her name? Or is she just a pretty, shiny thing?"

"Ok, it is getting annoying being referred to while I'm still here," Isabel interjected. "Now Kyle, all this big, macho, 'I can beat up someone smaller than me' ploy is definitely not working in your favor. And secondly, don't you have football practice right now?"

Kyle shot Alex a sharp glare and then turned to walk to the football field. Alex relaxed a bit and looked at Isabel with a new respect.

"Hey, thanks for that. I'm getting tired of dealing with him."

"Tell me about it. I have to deal with him hitting on me at every game. Ugh, I despise scum." 

She wrinkled her nose up in disgust. Well, they had at least one thing in common.

"Hey, I'm heading to the Crashdown to wait for my friends to wake up. Do you want to come and hang for a bit?" Isabel tensed a bit at the mention of the café, but Alex just ignored the reaction. She stood still for a moment. _Here comes the rejection_, Alex thought. Alex and Isabel jumped as a horn blared and a rag-tag jeep pulled up to the curb.

"Hey, Izzy. Hurry up! I have a job interview in fifteen minutes. If you don't want to walk all the way home, you better hop in now," the blond-haired, blue eyed driver muttered. That was her brother, what's his name? Max. Max and Isabel Evans.

"That's really sweet, but my ride is here. Maybe some other time," Isabel replied in that fake friendly voice as she walked over to a battered up jeep. She hopped into the front seat beside Max. Isabel glared at Max and then leaned against the door, staring around at the landscape. Great, she would rather be with a sibling in the middle of a family quarrel than walk with him. As Alex turned to continue to the Crashdown, the guy in the back seat of the Jeep glared at him. Ah, the school's rebel. Never at class. Never does homework. Always has a fight to pick with everyone. Alex really hoped that the glare was just a customary Michael greeting and didn't mean anything personal. He really didn't want to be on Michael's bad side. Alex looked at his watch and continued down the street. At least he'd get a lot of homework done before Maria and Liz woke up.


	5. 

Max's spade tipped tail twitched nervously as he glanced at the clock again ****

Max's spade tipped tail twitched nervously as he glanced at the clock again. The gargoyle night class had started five minutes ago and Liz wasn't there yet. She was never late for class. Had he done something wrong last night? Did he heal her only superficially? He was sure he had healed the wound completely, but he left in such a hurry that anything could have gone amiss. He sighed as the pale-skinned gargoyle teacher entered the class. Well, now it was even too late to sneak out and see if Liz was ok. He glanced around and saw Maria and the red-haired human, Alex, seated in the back row. This wasn't good. Shifting his weight again, Max tried to listen to the teacher.

"Now, today we are beginning our section on Shakespeare. To start out, we're going to begin reading Romeo and Juliet today in class." Her statement was met by many male groans, especially an incredibly loud ugh from Michael. 

"Is there something wrong with that play, Michael?"

"It's a crummy romantic pile of mush. Can't we read something a little more exciting to start with?"

"I'm sorry that you don't agree with my choice of literature, but considering how little you are in this class, I don't think you have much say in the matter. And don't worry, I'll make sure to hook you up with a nice girl when you play Romeo."

Michael blanched to a pretty shade of pink and had a look of pure horror on his face as the other gargoyles snickered at the teacher getting the best of him. Once he got over his initial shock, he just glowered at the teacher as she ran her talons through her dark red hair.

"Don't fret, Michael. I wouldn't want to give you a legitimate reason to skip my class. I'll be taking volunteers for the parts. Now everyone come up and get your books."

As Max walked back to his seat after attaining his play, he noticed a familiar amber figure sneak through the door.

"Well, hello Liz. It's nice that you could make it to class. Are you feeling ok tonight?" the teacher asked softly.

"Yes, elder," Liz squeaked.

"That's good. And please, call me Angel. That whole elder thing makes me feel old. Please, grab a book and take a seat next to Max. We're just starting to read Romeo and Juliet. Now, do I have any willing victims to read in the first act?"

Max watched Liz's skin fade to a creamy color when she learned where she must sit. As she sat down beside him, he shifted uncomfortably in his chair again. After his interview, he had rehearsed what he was going to tell her, but that didn't make this any easier. The glares that Michael sent to him across the room and Isabel's cold shoulder treatment weren't helping either. Sighing, he opened his book to the first act. He felt a tap on his arm and turned to see Liz slide a note across the table. The words "I need to talk to you" stared up at him. Quickly glancing at Angel, he jotted, "After class." He pushed the note back to her, only to have it thrust back at him a few seconds later with "NOW" scribbled on the bottom. Suddenly, Liz grasped her stomach and moaned a bit.

"Liz, are you ok?" Angel questioned worriedly.

"I don't feel so good. I think I need to go to the nurse's office."

"Max, would you please take Liz to the infirmary? I don't think you need a pass, just go, now."

Max nodded and helped Liz out of her seat and out the door. As soon as they entered the hallway, Liz led him straight to the janitor's closet. When she pushed him inside and closed the door, Max was utterly confused.

"Liz, why are we in here? Are you ok? We should really go to the nurse's…"

He broke off as Liz started to lift her shirt up. Ok, so he had fantasized about this, but now wasn't the time. He sighed with relief when she just pulled her shirt up enough to expose her stomach and a slightly faded silver handprint.

"How did you do this?"

"Spray paint?"

Liz glared at him.

"You're not going to believe that, huh?"

Silence.

"Well, it's really hard to explain."

"Try me."

"I'm not originally from Roswell. I came here about fifty years ago."

"Wait, how old are you?"

"Thirty-six."

"Hold on that doesn't make any sense. How could you have come here fifty years ago and only be thirty-six."

"Well, I woke up twenty-four years ago."

"Woke up?"

"We were under some kind of sleeping charm or something like that."

"What do you mean? And who's we?"

Michael was going to kill him.

"Michael and I. And we think we arrived here during the Roswell crash."

Slack-jawed, Liz just stared at him for a moment.

"What? You mean to tell me that you're… That you're from… that's impossible! You can't be an alien."

"Well, at least you're right on that. I'm not an alien. Although that would be a whole lot easier. People actually believe in them. They even have TV shows. All we get are stories written by dead playwrights and lunatics."

"What _are_ you talking about, Max?"

"Well, here goes nothing. I'm a gargoyle-fae half-breed."

"A what?"

Max blinked and took his turn to stare at her. He never thought that she wouldn't even know what he was talking about.

"The fae. You know. Titania? Oberon? A Midsummer's Night Dream? Fairies?"

"You have got to be kidding me. You expect me to believe this bullshit! I thought you trusted me Max."

Liz turned and stormed to the door. Oh god, she didn't believe him. He had to do something.

"Liz! Wait!"

"What? Are you going to tell me the truth now?"

"It is the truth."

He pushed up her shirt and laid his taloned hand against her stomach. He closed his eyes and, starting with his hand, willed his body to take human form. He felt his pinky talon split to create five fingers, his brow ridges, wings, and tail melting away, his feet reforming. Opening his eyes, he realized he was now eye level with Liz. She glanced down at her stomach and saw his hand perfectly covering the silver mark. Liz started to back away, but he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

"I would _never_ lie to you Liz. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Max slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the bullet that he had kept from last night. He opened her palm to place the bullet in it, but she jerked away. Fear shown in her onyx eyes as she slowly backed away from him. He had to do something or he was going to lose her again. Glancing at the bullet in his hand, he closed his eyes and envisioned it transforming, bending, lengthening, and twisting into itself. When he opened his eyes, a braided silver bracelet laid curled in the palm of his hand.

"Liz, here. Please, take it."

He could hear the desperation in his own voice, but the fear still swam in her eyes. She shook her head and, then, bolted out the door and down the hallway. Max quickly morphed back into his gargoyle form and ran out after her. 

"Liz, wait!"

Sighing, he stopped when she ran through the school's double doors. That didn't go well at all.

"Max? Are you ok?"

Max sighed again and turned towards his teacher.

"Super."

"Doesn't sound like it? Do you want to talk about it after class?"

"No."

"Is Liz ok?"

Max glanced down at the bracelet in his hands.

"She's fine."

"Well, I'm sure she'll come around. Some events just need awhile to sink in."

Max stared at the elder gargoyle. Had she heard the conversation?

"Now, we better get back to class before Michael decides to re-enact the sword fight in Hamlet's finale. I wouldn't have dreamt of leaving him alone, but you two were taking an awfully long time and after the shock Liz went through last night, I was worried."

Max nodded and followed Angel back to the classroom.

"So, Max. You up for playing Romeo?"


	6. Hanging by a moment

Maria paced around the rooftop of the Crashdown Café ****

Maria paced around the rooftop of the Crashdown Café. Where was Liz? It was about thirty minutes until dawn and she hadn't seen Liz since she had left class. Something had gone wrong. If Max had done anything to hurt Liz! Stamping her foot and clenching her fists, Maria growled and then resumed pacing. If only she had brought that lavender oil with her. She really needed something soothing right now. Not to mention tomorrow night, when her parents would kill her. She was supposed to be babysitting her little brother and after a multitude of persuasion, black mail, and bribery, Maria had finally managed to get Alex to fill in for her. He wouldn't be too happy tomorrow either. All his questions about the Crashdown incident had gone unanswered and her rushing off to see if Liz was ok did not help her claims that everything was fine. For once, she wished that she had an easy excuse like the human girls. Need a guy to go away, just mention tampons or periods. But no, the gargoyle females only cycled once every twenty years. Maria couldn't even just say that Liz was having cramps. She had to make up some lame excuse about a stressful paper that Alex knew didn't exist. This was straining their friendship to the breaking point and Liz was not helping. 

Then, there was the hassle she had to go through with Liz's human parents. The clan system for gargoyles had slowly passed away in Roswell and usually human and gargoyle families lived together. All of Roswell was essentially one big clan now, subdivided into families and groups. When Liz's gargoyle parents died while protecting innocents at a bank robbery, the Ortecho's took her in as their own daughter. Sadly, tragedy always seems to strike in threes and Rosa Ortecho overdosed a year later. Now, the Ortecho's were really over protective of Liz and this whole gun shot thing wasn't helping any. She was surprised that they even let her come to school tonight. And now Liz has disappeared and Maria has to make excuses to everyone. Liz owed her big time. Where the hell was she, anyway? Maria spun at the fluttering of wings and opened her mouth to begin her verbal assault, but choked back on her words when she saw Liz.

"Oh my God! Liz, what happened? You look awful."

Liz sniffled and collapsed on the edge of the roof. Maria grabbed her as she swayed dizzily. 

"Liz, you're so pale. Have you eaten anything?"

"Not since breakfast. Oh Maria, I just needed some time to myself. It's just that Max…"

"What did he do to you? If he did anything to harm you, so help me…"

"No, Maria, he didn't do anything. We just talked, but, God you're going to think I'm crazy."

"It can't be that bad."

"He's a fairy."

"He's gay?"

"No, he's a fae, a sprite, an elf, an imp, well half way anyway. You know? Like in A Midsummer's Night Dream?"

Wow, it finally happened. Liz went off the deep end. All those years of trying to be prefect must have taken their toll.

"Liz? Are you even listening to yourself right now?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but he changed right in front of me. He morphed into a human! How else could he do that? And the hand print. He _is_ fae."

"Oh man, Liz. We have to tell someone. This is dangerous. He might come and hurt you now."

"Maria! He saved my life and told me the truth. Why would he hurt me now? If he didn't care, he would have just left me to die."

"But he's not a gargoyle. How can you trust him? He might turn you into a frog or something."

"Do you know how stupid that sounds? And, anyway, he said he'd never hurt me."

"Well, then, we at least have to tell Alex. He's our friend and he needs to know. He's ready to kill me because I wouldn't tell him where you were or about last night. I can't keep lying to him and we may need his help later."

"No. We can't tell anyone else. You already know too much. Max trusted me and I'm not going to betray him anymore than I have already."

Maria shifted her weight worriedly. Why couldn't Liz see the danger here? Instead of looking scared, she looked ashamed. This wasn't right. Max could be dangerous. If he had kept such a big thing as this a secret from everyone, then how did she know that he was really who he acted to be? Suddenly, Liz cradled her head in her hands and half laughed, half sobbed.

"What's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing, Maria. I just met some wonderful guy who saved my life and trusted me with his biggest secret ever, and what do I do? Instead of thanking him or saying that I understand, I run away and treat him like a monster. I wouldn't blame him right now if he came and turned me into a toad."

With that, the sun rose and froze the two seated girls in stone slumber.

Author's note: This is it for now. If anyone is really interested in me continuing this, please let me know by leaving a comment in the little box beneath this box. I'm having difficulties with the next scene and would love some input about what you think so far. At this point, I can't decide whether to have the next part from Isabel's viewpoint or Michael's. Once I figure this out, the next parts will be up lickety split.


	7. Bibbidy-bobbidy-boo

Ok, so the writer's block turned out to be flimsier than I thought ****

Ok, so the writer's block turned out to be flimsier than I thought. Thanks to Sarah for lending the pick ax. More Michael development. Hazzah! Enjoy.

"Magic, magic, do as you will."

__

God, this stuff is corny, Michael thought,_ but if this shit works, I'll find and marry this Peter S. Beagle guy_. Michael slowly cracked open one gray eye, only to see the stupid soda can sitting in the same exact place. He closed his eye again and growled angrily.

"Dumb can!"

He hurled all the magic he had built up at the can in hopes it would change in some way. Anything form would do right now, even if it just changed from a Coca-Cola logo to a Pepsi logo. His eyes shot open when he heard a loud pop come from the spot where the can was. Or rather, where it had been. All that was there now was a smoldering pile of what Michael could only guess was aluminum.

"Oops," he quietly mumbled to himself. 

Well, he was the only one in the cave, which was a good thing. He really did not need Max to give him a lecture on magic right now. Actually, he didn't even want to talk to Max. Max's little one-on-one with Liz obviously did not go well, you didn't need to be a genius or a telepath to know that. Liz had never returned to class and Max was majorly bummed the rest of the period. So, instead of trying to track the holy saint on high down and wring an answer he already knew out of him, Michael had glided straight for the cave. If Max wanted to talk, he'd have to find him first. Michael sighed, got up off the stone slab in the middle of the cave, and went to the corner where they kept the bag of empty coke cans. Michael spent a lot of time in the cave, it was the only link they had found to their past. Four stone tables lined one side of the cave. Each had symbols on the wall over them, but none of them had ever been able to decipher them. The wall opposite the stone tables was empty except for a few niches carved out of the stone, which they used to put candles up. The back wall of the cave was the oddest. Embedded in the reddish stone was a mirror. A genuine mirror made of glass and metal. Michael still had no clue what the mirror's purpose was or who had put it there. 

Michael dug a new can out of the plastic bag and trudged back to the round slab in the middle of the cave's dirt floor. He sat in the middle of the black painted pattern on the stone. After much research, they had found that it was a mutated Brigit's shield, with six loops instead of nine. Michael placed the can in front of him and cracked his knuckles. 

"Ok," he mumbled. "What did that book say? Sometimes a rhyme or incantation will work."

Michael glared at the can and sighed. 

"Well, here goes nothing," he exhaled as he closed his eyes and poised his hands around the can. "Little can made of metal, um, turn into a…a…tea kettle."

He pictured the can morphing easily into a black kettle in his mind. The magic oozed off of his fingers and he smiled. It was actually going to work. He cracked open an eye again and slumped over with a big sigh. The can was gone. It had disappeared.

"Why is it that everything I do either explodes or becomes invisible?" he asked the ceiling. "At least it didn't blow up this time," he muttered as an after thought as he rose to get another can. He paused to throw a rock exceptionally hard at the mirror. The rock bounced off the mirror harmlessly, merely causing soft ripples to echo through the glazed surface. Michael figured that whatever they supposedly found at the "UFO crash site" must be this stuff. The mirror didn't break no matter what was thrown at it. As far as he could tell, it wasn't effected by heat either. After the ripples disappeared into the end of the mirror, Michael gazed at his altered human reflection. The piece of glass was doing it again. In the reflection, big bronze wings extended from Michael's armored shoulders. Which would have been perfectly fine if the rays of morning sunshine weren't peeking through the crevice opening into the underground cave. He flexed his shoulder muscles and watched the mirrored wings unfurl a bit. Where was Max? As much as he didn't want to talk to the saint, he really didn't want to walk all the way home through the desert. It would take two to three hours by foot. As an answer to his pondering, footsteps scrapped and scrambled down the cave's entrance.

"It's about time you came, Maxwell. For a second, I thought I'd have to hitchhike home," he exclaimed as he turned. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Isabel hop down the rest of the way into the cave. "I'm sorry, I thought you were Max."

"It's ok, he is the one that usually picks you up. Been practicing?" she asked at she stumbled over the invisible can.

"So Max actually let you use the jeep?"

"When I told him that you'd need a ride, he mumbled something about needing sleep and a job. About an hour later, I went to his room and he's sitting there moping over this silver bracelet. Then, he had the nerve to slam the door in my face and yelling some shit about minding my own business. Luckily he left the keys to the jeep on kitchen table or you'd be walking home, Mikey."

Michael turned back to the mirror to face his winged double. His brows knit in confusion and worry.

"The mirror's doing it again, isn't it?" a palely robed figure replied from the depths of the murky mirror.

"Yup."

"Well, at least the outfits are cool enough. A little too Greek for my likes, but still super stylish," Isabel mused as she turned slightly to view the back of her double's robe.

"We should get going now, Michael. Mom will be worried and you know that you can't skip another day of school for awhile. You made a promise."

"Ok, ok, but I'm driving," Michael replied as they headed for the crevice. He glanced over his shoulder for a last image of his winged, armored self disappeared into the mirror's dark depths.


	8. Everybody Hurts

Max parked his jeep in the lot for Dagda's Cauldron ****

Max parked his jeep in the lot for Dagda's Cauldron. Why did he apply for a job now? It just added one more hassle to the rest of his hectic life. He slammed the car door and stalked into the New Age store. His bad mood couldn't survive once he entered the shop, it never could. Banners and interesting orbs and sculptures adorned the walls and high wooden shelves. A glass display case with glimmering trinkets and medallions lined the right side of the store, along with the cash register. The lighting in the store was considerably darker than the sunny Roswell street. 

"Max? Is that you?" a voice questioned from a back room.

"Yes, I'm here to start work. I'm supposed to begin at 3:30. I'm sorry I'm a little late, but I had to drop my sister off at home and…"

"Don't worry about it. I'll just make you work harder," the voice's owner interrupted as she carried a box into the store. Max just stared at the thirty something woman as she hefted the box onto the counter. She wore short cut off jeans shorts and a light green cut-off shirt. Her long red-brown hair was pulled back in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.

"Are you…are you the owner here?" Max managed to choke out.

"Yup, that's me." She strode over to him and, after wiping her hand on her shorts, shook his hand. "Dana Kanshisha, at your service. So you're my new torture victim?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, I hope that you're a good lifter, because we just got a shipload in today. Before we begin, here are the rules. One, I always dress like this. I just can't stand this heat. If you think you'll have a problem with it, leave now. I've already lost three go-fors and a cashier because they couldn't keep their eyes in their sockets. Two, if there are any problems what-so-ever with your life, feel free to tell me. I am not an evil boss-monster that is going to chomp off your head if you miss a day of work because of a family emergency or some last minute plans. Just don't lie to me. I hate that, you got it."

"Yes, Ms. Kanshisha."

"Rule three, call me Dana. All that Miss stuff makes me feel old. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask. You and I are the only ones who'll be working this shift so if you get in over your head, just ask for help. Oh, and anyone asking for anything in the backroom will be directed straight to me. Got it?"

"Yes, Miss…I mean Dana."

"Good, let's move some boxes then."

After an hour or two of moving and unpacking boxes with the occasional inquiry of what something was, all the newly acquired items were on the shelves or in storage. While yawning, Dana stretched her arms over her head and wiggled her bare toes against the hardwood floor. 

"I'm going to go unpack some junk in the backroom," she said around an exceptionally big yawn. "You can just hang out and take care of any customers that come in. If you need any help, just give a yell."

Still stretching, Dana strode into the backroom and closed the door behind her. Max settled behind the counter and after ten minutes of no customers, scattered some schoolbooks and homework along the glass counter in hopes of getting something done. He glanced up as a middle-aged man entered the store.

"May I help you?" Max asked politely while shuffling his books into a neat pile.

"Nah, I'm just lookin'."

"If you need help with anything, feel free to ask."

"Thanks."

This job thing wasn't so hard. Max went back to his math homework while keeping part of his attention on the door and the man browsing the incense section. Ten minutes later, the store door opened again.

"Hello, may I help you…"

His words caught in his throat as the three women entered. They looked exactly the same except for their hair color.

"We are seeking items for a party," the black-haired one replied musically.

"We must examine pieces for a game," the blond one continued in the same melodic voice.

"Invitations must be sent to the guests," the silver-maned one concluded cryptically. 

Max just stared at them in utter confusion.

"Um, so, do you need help?"

"No," they replied in one voice. Max watched as they walked to the amulet section and quietly whispered among themselves.

"Weird," Max mumbled and continued with his homework. As he reached the last word problem, he heard a faint gasping sound from the herb section. He circled around the counter and entered the little alcove where the aromatherapy supplies were. Sweat streaming down his face, the middle-aged man was leaning against the shelves. He clutched his arm to his chest and his body shook with each ragged breath he took. 

"Excuse me, sir? Are you ok?" Max asked warily.

"I'm fine. Just a little light-headed. It must be stuffy or something in here," the man wheezed out. Then, he doubled over in pain and fell to the floor.

"Shit!"

Max kneeled next to the immobile body and turned him over onto his back. He checked for a pulse, but found none.

"Dana!" he yelled as he undid the guy's shirt.

"What's the matter?" Dana asked worriedly as she ran out of the backroom.

"Call 911. He's had a heart attack and I can't get a pulse."

Max barely registered Dana leaving to make the phone call. He placed his hand on the man's chest and, pretending to do CPR, concentrated on his wounded heart. All he had to do was find the blockage, destroy it, and then revitalize the heart. He winced in pain as a tightness developed in his own chest. This was bad. Half of the heart was basically dead. He found the blockage and gently broke up the molecules and healed the scarred tissue. Now to start the heart up again. Using all his energy, he tried to bring each dead cell to life. The man's body wouldn't listen though. For each cell he rejuvenated, another five would shrivel and die. It had to work though. It was his gift. He worked harder, sweat trickling down his forehead and back. The tightness in his chest intensified and dizziness encircled his brain, but he pushed them aside. He could feel his body swaying slightly. Then, two hands steadied his tired frame and gently pulled him away from the man's limp body.

"What are you doing?" he muttered. "He can still be saved. Let me go."

"Max, he's gone," Dana softly said. "There is nothing more you can do."

"No. I won't give up. I can save him. I just have to keep trying and…"

"Max," she snapped harshly. "There is nothing you can do. It was his time."

Max looked up at her to retort, but she wasn't looking at him. Her blue-green eyes were glazed over and it looked like she was watching some unseen entity on the other side of the body.

"The ambulance will be here in a moment. I'll help you to the bathroom. You've had a rough first day."

Dana helped Max to his feet and guided him through the store to the bathroom in the back. As they passed the three women, Max could feel static in the air. 

"It's begun," the dark-haired one murmured and then all three turned and left the store.

"Witches," Dana muttered and led Max into the bathroom. "Do you think you'll be ok?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'm just a little tired."

"You wait in here. I'll take care of the ambulance, ok?"

"Ok."

Dana left the bathroom. Max leaned against the sink for a while, trying to get his thoughts in order and his strength back. He felt so wasted. His fingers numbly fumbled with the faucet handles until a cool stream of water flowed out of the faucet. He watched the water bubble over his hands and vaguely listened to the commotion in the front of the store. He could hear the ambulance pull up and the personnel busying themselves with the body. Then another vehicle pulled up and the echo of boot heels filled the store.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Kanshisha. I'm so sorry about the inconvenience of the situation here. Could you please tell me what happened?"

"As you wish, Mr. Valenti."

"When will it stop?" Max muttered softly to the water.

"I was working at the counter there and this man suddenly fell to the floor. I called the ambulance and then started CPR. Unfortunately, that was not enough."

"And you were the only one here?"

"Yes."

"So, these school books are yours?"

"I just hired a new worker, but I sent him out for some errands about an hour ago."

"You gave him CPR?"

"Yes."

"What is this silver handprint from?"

Max splashed some water on his face. He was so dead. Two Valenti situations in three days. Why did he have all the bad luck? He looked at himself in the mirror, but then a glimmer of light reflecting behind him caught his attention. He turned to see the backroom's door ajar through the bathroom's entryway. Looking nervously around, he crossed the small hallway into the backroom.

"I don't know what it is. Probably some tattoo or something."

His blue eyes gazed around the room and caught sight of the glimmering. Some disappointment flowed through him when it was just a plain glowing orb. He turned to leave when a mirror to his right seemed to ripple, distorting the image of the room. Suddenly the reflection was replaced by a picture of a wooded island, the water slowly lapping against its shore and an ancient castle peeking from the mists. In awe, Max approached the mirror. This image was something he only saw in dreams and vague memories.

"Avalon," he whispered wistfully as he reached to touch to liquid glass.

Suddenly, a flash of bright white light shot from the mirror along with a high piercing whistle. Max scrambled back, banging into the door to the room, and fell out into the hallway, slamming his head into the wall. When his vision cleared, he saw a frightened Dana and annoyed Valenti standing above him. 

"I thought you were the only one here," Valenti spat.

"Max, I didn't know you were back from those errands. When did you return?"

"I just got back. I had some packages so I came in the back," Max blurted, his eyes shifting between Valenti and Dana. "I think I set off an alarm or something."

"It's ok, Max. Now, do you have any more questions, Mr. Valenti?"

"None at all. Sorry for the inconvenience. Goodbye, Mr. Evans. I hope the new job works out for you. And remember to stay out of any trouble."

With that, Valenti left. After awhile, the ambulance crew and the dead body vacated the store too. Max looked out at the slowly darkening sky and sighed. He went behind the counter and started packing up his books and papers.

"Is it alright that I leave now, Dana?"

"Yes, it's about quitting time for both of us. Have a good night, Max. Get some sleep, too."

Max turned to leave the store. His hand closed on the doorknob when Dana's voice stopped him.

"Oh, and Max, stay out of the backroom from now on. There's some dangerous shit in there. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Yes ma'am."


	9. Masquerade

She runs along the moonlit lake cheerfully ****

She runs along the moonlit lake cheerfully. Glancing back every now and then to her parents, she lets go of her sister's hand and sprints ahead towards a rose bush.

"Come on, Rosa!" she calls playfully, twirling around in the fragrant air.

"Go ahead, Liz. I'll wait here for you," the sister replies softly.

Rosa sits in the lush, dark green grass. Liz runs to the rose bush and sniffs the roses. They are so pretty. _These would look wonderful in Rosa's hair_, Liz thinks and then, carefully picks the blossoms. She fills her arms with the red bouquet and runs back to the seated Rosa.

"Look what I got for you," Liz says, dumping the armload of flowers into Rosa's lap.

"They're so beautiful," Rosa exclaims. "Just like you."

Rosa gently slips a black rose into Liz's hair and kisses her forehead.

"Can I braid them into your hair?" Liz asks.

"Sure."

Liz circles around to behind Rosa. She runs her talons through Rosa's dark silky hair and then reaches around to take a rose from her lap. Her talons close on the wet stem of a single red rose. Liz starts to braid the rose into Rosa's black hair, but stops when she realizes that her hands are covered in blood. Liz screams and scrambles away from the crimson stemmed rose.

"Mom! Dad!" she yells, but both have disappeared.

A faint mist blows in, off of the lake. Rosa's form falls forward and Liz crawls over to help.

"Rosa, wake up," she says while shaking her.

Rosa does not move. Crushed roses spilling around her, Liz uses all her strength to roll Rosa onto her back. She gasps in horror at the sight. Rosa's eyes are closed calmly, but her face and arms are covered with a multitude of tiny scratches, drenching her tan skin in blood.

"Rosa? Wake up. It's time to go home now. We need to get some Band-Aids and then you'll be ok. Come on, Rosa."

She continues to shake Rosa's motionless form as the mist closes in around them. Tears stream down her face as her choked pleas go unanswered. Suddenly a hand grasps Liz's shoulder and she twirls around in fear to face the shadowed stranger.

"Max! You have to save her! Please, she won't wake up, but you can help her."

"Don't worry, Liz. I'll stop her pain."

Max brushes past her and kneels beside Rosa. His right taloned hand smoothly slithers into a human hand. Brushing back her raven hair, he presses two fingers against her stained forehead. His hand glows silver. Suddenly, Rosa spasms and intakes a quick, deep breath of air. Then, her body completely relaxes, her head lulling to the side.

"Oops," Max croons, glancing over at Liz through his blond bangs. "I guess I used the wrong hand."

His eyes never leaving hers, he stealthily crawls back to Liz. He crouches in front of her and brushes her hair back from her face.

"Don't be scared, Liz," he soothes, softly stroking her hair. "Didn't your mother ever tell you about balance? But you're more of a science girl, aren't you? For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction. It's all part of the game."

He places his left hand gently on her stomach.

"One hand to revive life."'

He reaches up and takes the black rose in-between the fingers of his right hand.

"The other hand to take it."

The rose's petals shrivel and wilt away from the flower. Max smiles sinisterly and the dried stem falls to the ground.

"Goodbye, Liz."

He places his right hand on her forehead. Her skin is on fire, electricity shooting up and down her nerves. The mists close in around her, clouding her vision to black. Her body begins to itch. As the irritation intensifies, all she sees is a burning red landscape. 


	10. Masquerade part 2

AN: This is part one of chapter whatever ****

AN: This is part one of chapter whatever. I'm having problems finishing it, but I figured that there is still a lot of stuff right here so I'll put it up. The next little part will be up soon. Hopefully. There is a direct quote from Roswell High in this section and it's marked and footnoted. Gargoyles and Roswell High aren't mine and I'm so sad about that too. Enjoy the story.

Two loud roars filled her ears. Liz stretched, shaking her stone skin from her body. She breathed quickly and clenched her eyes shut. _What a horrid dream_, her thoughts gasped. A hand grasped onto her shoulder and she spun around, almost falling off the building.

"Whoa, Liz! Chill. It's just me," Maria stammered as she stumbled back. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just had a really bad dream."

"Excuse me, Liz," a familiar voice commanded from behind Maria.

Liz peeked around Maria. Scowling, Alex was leaning against the doorway leading down to the Café. Beside him stood Valenti.

"I require your assistance with a situation down at the morgue. It won't take that long. Would you please come with me now?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Liz replied cautiously. What was going on? The morgue? Were her parents ok? She quietly followed Valenti to his car. Fretting over the possibilities, she stared out the window the entire trip to the morgue. Did something happen to her parents? She already lost her birth parents and Rosa; she couldn't take it if anyone else left her. Stepping out of the car, she meekly trailed behind Valenti into the cold morgue. They walked past the tall file-cabinet containers of the dead. Valenti stopped at a drawer and slowly pulled it out. He then lifted the sheet away from the middle-aged man's face. Liz breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you know this man?" mirrored glasses asked.

"I haven't a clue," she replied coldly. "Why did you bring me here? Not saying a word at all? You know my parents and sister are dead! How dare you scare me like this!"

Tears brimming, Liz glared at him. He kept the same blank face, the same lack of emotion. Slowly, his hand drew the sheet down to expose the man's chest.

"Have you seen this mark before?"

"No," her quivering voice stammered, holding back a gasp.

"Lift up your shirt."

"What!"

"May I please see your stomach?"

"No."

"My son said he saw a similar hand print on your stomach. If you do not cooperate, I will have to keep you for questioning about this man's death and the shooting at the Crashdown. Now, lift up your shirt."

Liz stared stubbornly at him and tried to wait him out. He was lying. She hadn't even seen Kyle in the past few days. He seemed to have grown enough brains to avoid her. Finally, with no other choice, she sighed and tugged up the bottom of her tank top to expose flawless amber skin. No silver. No handprint. Not even a tattoo or scar. 

"Are you happy?"

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience. We do have a killer on the loose. Whoever he is, he killed the man by destroying the cells of his heart. If you know anything Liz, you must tell me. There is no use protecting him. He's dangerous; no matter what he did for you. Remember, there are two sides to everything. In the end, a healer and murderer are the same thing. I'll drive you home now."

"Th..That's ok. I'll just meet my friends at the mall. I can fly there myself."

Liz exited the morgue and climbed up onto the roof. She spread her feathered wings and leapt off the building. Arriving in no time, she hooked up with Alex and Maria at the mall entrance and then headed towards one of the many dress shops that supplied gargoyle fashions. Liz remained silent as she flipped through the many dresses.

"So, from the male point of view, what's a good dress, Alex?" Maria asked in fake cheerfulness.

"Oh, you know, short, tight, backless, low cut, maybe a couple of slits somewhere. Preferably worn braless with one of those thong things."[1]

Alex glanced between Liz and Maria.

"Ok, what's up?"

"Huh?" Liz mumbled, looking up from a black dress.

"What's wrong, Liz? That was a hit-worthy comment and I didn't even get a grimace. What happened with Valenti?"

"It's nothing. He just wanted me to identify a body," Liz said meekly.

"What! Are your parents ok?" Alex and Maria exclaimed at the same time.

"No, no. I didn't know the guy."

"That jerk! Some nerve. That mean, evil gene must run in the family," Alex ranted. "Although on a lighter note, that gives me an idea for a list. Ten ways to tell your dad is a Super-Villain out for world domination. Then the follow-up list, ten ways to tell you're following in his footsteps. Way #1, he cuts off your hand."

"But Luke wasn't bad."

"He could have been. He must have read a list online and realized he was taking the wrong path."

"Alex."

"Yessum."

"You are so weird."

"At least I got your mind off of other things evil. Anyway, Vader is so much nicer than Valenti. Has better fashion sense, too. It's all about the cape and helmet."

Liz smacked him on the back of his head.

"Ow, what was that for?"

"The dress comment."

"But you didn't even hear it!"

"You think that matters? I'll take your word on it. What do you think about this dress?"

In better spirits, Liz held up a slinky, black, spaghetti strapped dress. The sequined skirt swept to the floor.

"That gets two thumbs up on the guy-o-meter."

Maria whapped him this time.

"What? Fine, it's two thumbs down."

Alex dodged Maria's next punch and sought refuge on the other side of the rack.

"Girls. So what is it? Which way is hit-free?"

"Neither."

"Last time I go shopping with you two."

"Oh, but we haven't even picked out your outfit yet," Maria purred. "We could find something in pink with ruffles and lace and a little tutu."

"That's it. I'm outta here."

He scanned the hallway outside the store, looking for any help. Only one male was in sight and he was a thin red gargoyle with devil's horns on his head. Alex shrugged.

"I'd sell my soul to get out of a date with a pink frill fest," he muttered as he exited the store. "Hey, man, you have to help me! These girls are going to attack me with makeup and pompoms and leotards. As a fellow male, it's your duty to stick with me."

"Sure," the gargoyle smirked. "I could do with some amusement tonight. Who are these girls?"

Alex pointed to Liz and Maria exiting the store.

"Those are the monsters. Please, protect me," he mock-pleaded in a sugary sweat whine.

The gargoyle stiffened and growled slightly when he saw the approaching females. Flustered, Maria and Liz stopped mid-stride. Alex stood between the groups and glanced back and forth.

"Hello Maria. Liz," the gargoyle muttered.

"Michael, hey, there you are," a voice called from behind Liz and Maria.

A green gargoyle walked up to the quartet. Liz jumped back and grabbed her forehead as Max brushed past her.

"Max! Hey, how are you?" she blabbered nervously. "Um, wow, what a coincidence that you're here, too, or maybe not. It is a few days until the dance so I guess everyone is here."

Max cast a sad gaze at Liz and then turned to Michael.

"Let's go find Izzy. You know how she gets in malls. She may never come home or use up all our cash. Bye Maria. Liz."

Liz watched them walk away. She had to fix this. It was only getting worse. He could never kill anyone. He took care of the mice at school. Everybody was friendly with him. Then, why was she so scared? It was just a dream. It could never be true.

"You know," Alex pondered, "There are these three kids at school named…"

"Max! Wait up! I'll meet you guys later, ok? At the food court?"

"Sure."

****

[1] Ok, because I love this line so much, this is word for word from Roswell High #1 The Outsider written by Melinda Metz. This phrase is not mine, but isn't it the greatest.


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